


Hearts of Ice

by Yuri-plisetsky (TheGirlOfIronAndBlood)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst child, Child Yuri, M/M, Victor is way too misleading, Yuri idolises victor way too much, Yuri is adorable, end game victuuri, russian punk, victor is a sex god and everyone loves him, yuuri sweet summer child
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-01 08:00:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8616019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGirlOfIronAndBlood/pseuds/Yuri-plisetsky
Summary: Yuri's been in love with skating since he was 6 years oldAnd he's been in love with Victor since the moment he saw him dancing on the frozen-over lake, right outside his house, silver hair whipping through the cool October air.Victor is his, and no one, no one is worthy of him(My take on why Yuri is so bloody angsty, and the years of his skating career that define both Victor and Yuri. This is end-game Victuuri "Skater's hearts are as fragile as ice, but they may become as hard and as cold as ice as well"





	1. Dancing on Ice

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, first part is Yuri's relationship with Victor up to him meeting Yuuri, Second part will be written when the rest of the season comes out and when I learn of what will happen leading up to the Grand Prix Finals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I MUST WARN YOU THE FIRST PART OF THIS STORY WILL BE ONE-SIDED YURI/VICTOR AND VICTOR IS GENERALLY A MISLEADING PERSON AND HE WILL SEEM TO RECIPROCATE YURI'S FEELINGS BUT CHILL ALL YOU YUURI/VICTOR SHIPPERS VICTUURI IS GOING TO BE THE END GAME I JUST FELT THE NEED TO WRITE A FIC ABOUT POOR ADORABLE YURI

_**Chapter One: Dancing on Ice**_  
It's only early October, and yet the lakes have already all frozen over, their surfaces glossy like the beady eyes of a raven. "Grandpa! Grandpa! What are those older boys doing?" A little boy says in slightly shaky Russian as his dainty little hand points out of a dusty window, and bringing his Grandfather's attention to the colourful figures zig-zagging on the ice.

"They are dancing on the ice, my kotyonok," his grandfather says tenderly as he pulls his tiny grandson into his lap. “Like butterflies on a field? Like fairies?” The little boy tilts his head to look at his grandfather, and the tufts of blonde hair on his head looked like a halo upon his delicate face.

“Yes, kotyonok. Like fairies.” Suddenly, the little boy points to one of the children on the pond, a tall, slim figure with flowing silver hair that seemed to have a certain air of grace with him, who at certain intervals, would fly across the pond, leaping past the other children and landing smoothly. “I want to be like her!” He said, as he crawled off his grandfather’s lap. 

“Someday, my kotyonok,” his Grandfather said as he picked Yuri up again and settled him onto the sole bed in the cramped house. “Go to sleep now, while I go cook dinner,”

That Christmas, Yuri tore open the one parcel he received, and shrieked for joy when he found a pair of silver skates, a bit too large for him, but he was happy. He could try to be the silver haired fairy he saw, skating on the lake right below the window of his flat, absolutely in control and free as he danced on the ice.

  

He’d been skating for three years when he was scouted by Yakov, doing a self-invented spin on the ice in the middle of November on the same lake he saw the silver-haired fairy. “Who taught you how to do that, boy?” He asks, his voice loud and boisterous. “Me,” Yuri replies meekly, hiding his hands behind his back as the stranger studies him from head to toe.

“You have quite the potential, boy. Do you want to do figure skating professionally?” The man asks Yuri. He’s only 6- he doesn’t know what ‘Figure skating’ is. Nor does he know what ‘professionally’ means either. But he does know one thing. 

“Mister, I would like to learn how to dance on ice,” he replies boldly, then as if he’s reminded of how he’s just a little boy staring up at a fully grown man, he blushes, looking down timidly. 

Yakov discusses this with the boy’s grandfather- and when he learns of Yuri’s age, he realises that he has struck gold. He’ll have at 6 years of professional training before entering in the junior sections, giving him a massive advantage. The boy looks so fragile and feminine- like a rose petal- figure skating is mainly a female sport for a reason, for the ice prefers the agility and fragility of a woman. So he takes Yuri in despite his family not being able to pay the tuition. The boy can pay by increasing his reputation when he wins the Junior World Championships.

And that’s how Yuri gets into ice-skating.

  

The second time he sees the silver-haired figure again is during his third ice-skating session with Yakov, and Yuri is breath-taken by how beautiful the man is close up.

He looks a bit like the princesses on the cover of the books his female classmates like to read- large blue eyes (that he later learns to be the exact colour of the Hawaiian Sea), pale skin and silver hair tumbling down his shoulders despite being tied up into a ponytail.

He practices extra hard that day. He wants the silver-haired figure from his dreams to notice him, to praise him, but he doesn’t. Yuri goes home and cries to his grandfather, who holds him in his lap and comforts him.

Yuri goes to practice especially early the next day after school. The entire skating rink is empty save for the silver-haired man he saw on the lake outside his flat in mid-october three years ago. And he is skating, flying across the ice as if he were defying gravity, doing combination spins and jumps as he runs through his programme. Yuri watches, his eyes large and glossy with awe as Victor does a quadruple flip and lands perfectly, as he finishes his programme and slides to an end near the wall Yuri is standing.

“One day, when you’re as old as I am, you’ll be able to do all this,” the silver-haired man offers the awe-struck kid staring at him as if he were the Messiah a thin, pale hand. “I’m Victor, what’s your name?”

“Yuri,” the blonde child smiles, and he looks so happy that it makes Victor’s heart skip a beat at how adorable he is. 

“Are you the best in the world?” Yuri asks curiously, his eyes peeking through his bangs to look up at Victor. The long haired man grins, as he picks Yuri up and starts skating with the flailing boy in his arms. 

“Let me go!” The boy shrieks. “Nope,” Victor says as he pinches Yuri’s cheek while lazily twirling on the ice. “You asked me who the best in the world was. Here’s my answer- you’re the best in the world, Yuratchka.”

Yuri was definitely too young to know what love was back then, but thinking back to that time, that was definitely the start of his long, long journey of falling in love with the figure skating legend.


	2. Waltz on the Ice

Yuri's first skating competition is a small local one, and there couldn't have been more than thirty spectators sitting on the stands, mostly bored coaches and overly-enthusiastic parents. His grandfather sits in the first row of the stands, the closest seat possible to the rink, smiling reassuringly at him. 

"Skaters, please warm up on the rink now," around a dozen kids, aged between 7 to 12 waddled onto the rink. Some launched into their full programme, despite their coaches' exaggerated gesturing of "NO! THATS A BAD IDEA!" Some were to scared to do anything but whimper and stay close to the plastic panel, and their concerned parents beyond them.

Yuri was part of the latter. He _was_ the youngest skater there by far, and everyone else towered over him like giants over a tiny fairy. His legs shook, palms sweating furiously as he returned to the stand-by area. 

He sat down on the floor and crouched over, clutching his legs as if his life depended on it. "I'm scared," he whimpers to no one in particular, and ignores the other skaters as they too return to warm-up area. 

  

Neither does he notice a tall lean figure near the entrance of the warm up area, smiling ~~bribing his way in~~ at the woman at the counter, I don't think anyone would've blamed her though. Victor Nikforov, two time consecutive Grand Prix Champion of the skating world was standing in front of her, in a beige trench coat, his trademark hair pooling down his shoulders like moonlight, as Yuri had pointed out once when Victor had come out of the shower, his hair down and soaking wet. 

"Yuri?" A familiar voice says. A hand comes to rest upon his head. "Yuratchka?”

“Victor? Why are you here?” Yuri raised his head a little. “I’m here to cheer you on, Yura,” Victor flashed a grin. “Can’t miss my darling Yura’s skating debut, can I?” 

“I’m scared, Victor, I’m scared I’ll fall down during the programme and everyone will laugh at me,” Yuri pulled his legs closer, his mouth crushed against his knees. 

“Look at me Yura,” Victor used his left hand to lift up Yuri’s face, while using his other hand to rub away the blonde child’s tears. “You are the most remarkable skater I’ve ever met, and I’ve met world champions, I’ve met men and women who are top of their country, but I’ve never met anyone with as much raw talent as you do.”

“Competitor number five, Yuri Plisetsky, please enter the rink.”

“Now Yura, go out and make me proud, okay?”. 

Yuri gives a shaky nod as he steps into the spotlight and begins to dance. He let’s go of his fear- it is of the past, of a past without Victor looking over him like a guardian angel. Every spin he makes, he imagines that Victor is holding his hand, guiding him as they waltz on the ice, every jump he envisions the perfect form Victor displays in his programmes, Yuri’s seen every clip available of the skating legend, and his favourite has to be this year’s Grand Prix Final. No one was expecting him, a fully grown man to end his performance with a Biellmann spin, earning him stand ovation from every spectator.

_“Try your best, my little fairy,” Natasha, the sweet red-haired girl seven years his senior had told him the other day after practice before sweeping him up into a hug. “Tasha, you’re crushing me,” he whined, but the girl didn’t let go. “But you’re so cutee,” she cooed as she let him back on the ground, but not before pinching btoh of his cheeks. “Well, I’ve got stack of homework waiting for me, so I’ll get going,” she smiled before turning to leave the rink._

_“Tash- you think I’ll ever be like Victor?”_

_“Consecutive world champion and one of the world’s hottest bachelors? Of course, I think you’ll be able to surpass him, even.” She gave him a flashing smile. “I pity the other competitors if you and Victor ever have to face each other on the rink- they’ll be greatly overshadowed.”_

_“No Tash- I mean, I want to be like Victor, handsome and tall and beautiful and confident and…” Yuri could’ve gone on for days. “Yu- you don’t want to be like Victor, you want him to like you, and he likes boys like you, delicate and fragile, people he can protect.”_

_“Really?”_

_“Yes, myshka, he likes you quite a lot. “_   
  
His body feels the tug of fatigue as he nears the end of his programme, but he continues to hold his head up high. “Do it for Victor,” he whispers, as he does his final steps, but instead of ending on a less-physically-demanding upright spin he lifts up his left leg and does the Biellmann Spin he’s been practicing for weeks since Victor first did it on national television.

He curtseys after he lowers his leg, before scurrying back to the warm-up area, where Victor is standing, mouth wide open as Yuri runs into his arms. “Was that my ending at the GPF?” He asks. Yuri nods, blushing as he ducks his head.

“I love you so much.” Victor says, deadly serious. “I love you too,” Yuri purrs like a cat, his head against his idol’s chest. It’s no surprise that Yuri sets almost a world record for the best score any skater has ever gotten for their career debut, but then all he really cares about is that proud smile on Victor’s face.

“Let’s go join your granddad for ice cream, shall we?”


	3. Never Let Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first work for an anime fandom and the feedback is positively amazing. Thank you so so so much for reading my work. I'm also finding a beta reader so I've you're interested let me know! Later chapters may be longer but then I'm not a fan of leaving unpublished writing around so here you go! Another update=)

The days pass by like a gust of wind, and it feels like almost no time has passed from when Yuri was first taken under Yakov's wing, till he was 10 years old, sitting in the spectators stand next to the rink, watching Victor- his Victor glide on the ice, practicing for his Grand Prix Final free-programme. 

He does a triple flip, followed by a quad axel. Yuri is staring at his idol in awe when Victor over-rotates on the second half-turn and instead of landing sharply on his left foot, his skates give way, and he falls onto the ice head-first.

"VITYA!" Yuri screams even before Victor's head impacts with the ground, his silvery hair spread out around him. He looks so pale against the ice, even for Russian standards, and Yuri is positively hysterical. He runs onto the ice, despite having already changed into his favourite pair of leopard-print converse. 

"Vitya, Vitya, Vitya, are you okay? Don't scare me please," Yuri mutters as he skids across the ice, leaving a gray line behind him.

But Victor doesn't respond. 

The younger boy urged his feet to go faster- but the ice was too slippery, his feet moving way too fast for gravity to kick in. With a thundering "bam", the budding skater crashed onto the ice, a mere three meters away from his Vitya, who was still unconscious, lying on the ice. 

Yuri gritted his teeth, ignoring the piercing pain in his right ankle as he struggled to stand up again, only to slip and fall on his injured ankle again. His eyes started to water, his lips quivering from the pain of falling on his ankle yet again.

But another glance at Victor, still as a corpse a arm-length away gave him all the motivation he needed to ignore the burn on his knees as he dragged himself across the ice and towards the 22-year old skating prodigy. 

"Vitya!" He shouted as he cupped Victor's face. "Wake up Vitya! Wake up! Please wake up, Vitya..." Yuri bit on his still-quivering lip, droplets pooling in his eyes and threatening to fall onto the ice, that had started to melt due to the body heat of the two skaters.

"Help..." Victor's voice sounded so helpless, that Yuri's tears started to fall, forming a little puddle on the back of his hand. "I'm here Vitya, I can call for help Vitya, I can.., I can..." 

"I'm cold..." Victor's breathless voice rang through Yuri's ears- the voice he tended to listen so attentively to, even when it wasn’t directed towards himself. He hung on to every word he said, fascinating by how much confidence and personality once could manage to express through speech alone.

WIthout a single thought, Yuri peels the leopard print hoodie he was wearing and covers Victor with it, ignoring the fact that the prickling cold was causing his lips to slowly turn an unhealthy shade of purple, then he wraps his body around the older man as he falls asleep, having used up the little energy his tiny body held to keep warm on the freezing rink.

 

It seemed like a lifetime until someone entered the rink area _But afterwards, Yuri wished that it **had** been a lifetime, for he would gladly give his life to stay with his arms wrapped around Victor for the rest of his life _

“Victor are you done… YURI? VICTOR? ARE YOU OKAY?” There was a long,slender arm peeling the blonde boy away from the man he loved. Yuri opened a bleary eye. “Vitya…” he said before succumbing again to the darkness.

~~The entire time Natasha held the boy in her arms as she rushed him to the emergency room, there was only one word on his lips.~~

 

Yuri wakes up in a white room with bleached blankets, a man with long hair down to his waist keeping vigil next to his bed. “Vitya?” He says as turns to face him, not expecting the man to bend over and kiss him on the cheek, right next to his mouth. If it were any other time Yuri would have blushed, but he was still drugged on sleep and a bit too much morphine, so all he did was mumble, “Your hair’s in my face, Vitya,”

“I’m hurt, Yuratchka,” Victor laughed as he picked the tiny boy from his bed and engulfed him into a bone-shattering hug. 

“Thank you for saving me,” he says, his voice softer than it usually was. Most people probably wouldn’t have noticed it, but Yuri did. “I love you,” the words rush out of Yuri’s mouth before he realises it, but then once they were out there was no turning back. Victor laughed as he pressed another kiss to his cheek.

“I love you too, Yura,” he says, as he places Yuri back onto the bed. “I should be going now, the hospital only allows one visitor at a time and Yakov wants to check if you’ll be able to resume practice next…”

“Stay. Please.” Yuri pleads as he stretches his hand out to grab Victor’s. “Stay until I fall asleep.”

“Okay,” Victor settles back down onto the hard plastic chair next to Yuri’s bed, holding his hand as it were something valuable. Something absolutely precious to him.

~~He leaves long after Yuri falls asleep, mesmerized by how weak his Yuratchka looks in the massive bed, yet how bravely he put himself on the line to save him. _He never wants to let go._ ~~


	4. Casanova on Ice (part one)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've split the whole thing into smaller chapters or else you'll never get an update lol. This 'arc' will basically explain why Victor changes his look and why Yuri transforms from cute cinnamon roll to ball of angst.

Victor Nikiforov is a bonafide casanova, and it’s long past being considered a scandal if he takes a random stranger to bed. His looks and charm are unparalleled, and with three grand prix gold medals and three skating world championships under his belt, he’s living, breathing proof that talent and beauty can, in fact, co-exist. It’s also one of the worst kept secrets in the figure skating world that Victor Nikiforov is not picky at who enters his bed, whether it be a busty brunette prostitute or his handsome blonde opponent on the skating rink, he has no qualms with sleeping with them all.

And no one really cares about this- as long as he continues to enchant millions on the ice, even if he prefered sleeping with _animals_ for goodness sake no one would care-even the Russian Government for all its homophobic laws has turned a blind eye to the Skating Legend’s sexual antics as long as he continued churning out gold medal after gold medal for Mother Russia and didn’t go flaunting about it. For goodness sake- you're talking about a man with silvery waist- length hair who dances on ice in bejeweled, skin-hugging dresses (thats practically what skating costumes are) and semi-transparent leggings.

Well, it’s a problem to no one really but Yuri. The blonde boy is constantly by Victor’s side, unless he’s at school, and you can only get abandoned or third-wheeled so many times before you get sick of it all. 

~~Especially when you have a massive crush on the man whose favourite pastime is making out with every woman that throws herself at him in front of your face, and all you can really do about it is turn your back and act disgusted~~

He especially hates it when they apologise for “indecency in front of children” when they suddenly notice him. “If you actually cared you would’ve looked around before you forced your bloody tongue down Vitya’s throat,” he’d say before stalking away. 

Sometimes Victor would run after him, panting words of apology as he tried to chase after the blonde boy. But sometimes he didn't. Sometimes, especially times when he had already gone days without anyone to warm his bed, he’d bring the woman home, then he’d be guilty about it when they were done, so he’d kick the poor girl out to this house and plead Yuri for forgiveness over the phone. Other times he would walk ten minutes in the cold to Yuri’s house, and offer him chocolates from the expensive chocolatier down the road, or fresh pastries from the bakery, or sometimes, even flowers, bouquets of daisies or lilies or roses. Yuri would scoff at the flowers, but would force Victor to stay a while for hot chocolate, and looking at Victor’s handsome face flushed with coldness just made all his anger seem to magically disappear.

(He always tells Victor to not to buy him flowers lest he actually becomes a bloody fairy, but in secret, he loves them, and he presses every single flower into bookmarks so they never wilt and die)

No one expected Victor Nikiforov to ever settle down, but then for a while everyone, even Yuri feared that he would. 

It was two months after Victor’s second gold prize at the Grand Prix Finals, when one day, Yuri waltzed into Victor’s house into the morning (he had a key) to find a gorgeous blonde woman sitting at the breakfast bar. 

“Erm… I’ll be polite- who the fuck are you? Victor doesn't usually keep his fucktoys until morning and treat them to breakfast, so you’re either his first experiment towards being less of a douche, or you’re something else. Long lost cousin who’s one of his most stalkerish fans in disguise, maybe?” Yuri grumbled as he climbs onto one of the white Scandinavian chairs Victor ordered from Sweden when he was there for a competition three years ago. 

“Oh? You must be the little Yuri Victor keeps talking about,” The woman chuckles, and her voice is so high pitched and girly Yuri’s convinced that if she tried, she could definitely shatter every window in the house. His heart swelled for a moment- Victor talked about him a lot to this random stranger woman? 

“I’m surprised he hasn’t told you yet, considering the fact the two of you seem very close. Too close for a supposed older and younger student relationship. But I mean, Victor is the type to be totally oblivious to everything, and he’s too passionate towards everyone, so he doesn’t see it. But well- you are too young for him, I reckon. I’m his girlfriend, Vasilisa Ivankov, and I met Victor when he was skating gin Paris and I was there walking for Dior during the Paris Fashion week.” Yuri heart sank- he does remember seeing her on TV, actually, just a week ago, in a perfume commercial on TV. Of course- how had he not expected this- Victor was probably going to settle down soon, with this beauty of a Russian model, retire from the ice, maybe pop out a few children. He wasn’t going to wait for Yuri. He’s 11 for goodness sake, and he’s only qualified to start his international career next year, and Victor’s already got 4 internationally renowned gold medals under his belt. 

The two blonds sit in awkward silence, both not wanting to really acknowledge the other’s existence, but slowly and begrudgingly admitting to the fact that if they wanted a piece of the Russian Legend, they were going to have to bear with each other for longer. Both of them believed that they had a better chance of capturing the man’s heart- the Ivankov was beautiful, Yuri couldn’t lie, but then she was new to Victor- whereas Yuri had breathed the same air that his sort-of mentor, not really brother and occasionally person-of-interest had for almost five years. No one in the world, perhaps apart from Victor’s own mother, who had single handedly raised her son into adulthood, knew the silver-haired man as well as Yuri did. 

At the perfect moment, Victor emerged from his room right next to the staircase, a content smile on his face as he walked towards them. “Both of my favourite people in the world, right in front of my eyes. I am a lucky man indeed,” he said. He first embraced Ivankov, pecking her lips gently like a loving boyfriend, then, he turnt to Yuri (who was sulking since the peck had basically proven the woman’s words to be true) and kissed him gently on the cheek, right next to his lips as he often did before practices or when he was just really, really glad to see his little protege. 

“Vicky, you can’t just kiss other people like that, I’ll feel jealous,” Ivankov said in her shrill voice, her lips forming a pout. Yuri was about reach out across the table and smack her, but Victor knew exactly what his Yuratchka would do, and had stretched his arm over to his shoulder, pulling him back before he could do anything stupid. 

“Vasya- stop it. I’ve known Yura since he was a five year old child who could barely walk and talk. Of course we’re close. Goodness, have some sense Vasya, the boy is 11 years old, he’s like a brother to me,” The blonde boy’s heart shattered. It’s one thing to assume that Victor never viewed him as anything more than a younger brother, but it’s another to hear it uttered through his cherry-blossom like lips. 

“I’m just joking, Vicky.” The woman giggles, and Yuri suppressed the urge to puke. He gulped it back down before asking: “Vitya, are you going to the skating rink today? Yakov said that he’s going to let me off early today so maybe we could skate together for a while?”

“I’m sorry Yura, but I promised Vasya I’d go join her during her photo shoot. Maybe next time?” Victor looking pleadingly at Yuri, a look that said ‘please please Yuri I can’t fuck this up’. 

“Okay then, I guess I’d better get going since you’re not coming anyways,” Yuri hops off his stool, grabbed his bag front the floor and started to make his way to the door, making sure that no one could see the tear tracks that had started to flow on his face. 

Victor knew how rare it was that Yakov ever let Yuri off early, even rarer that Victor would have a free day at that same time. They hadn't skated together for months already, due to Yuri’s high-school placement tests and Victor’s Grand Prix Final preparations. He had been so happy this morning when he walked to Victor’s house, but now he was leaving in tears.

“You should really stop being so obsessed with Victor- he has his own life, and you aren’t supposed to be in it,” a little voice in his head commented.

“Yuri- stay for breakfast! I’m making omelettes,” Victor’s voice reached his ears. He raised his hand to gesture “No need, thanks,”, not trusting his voice to not betray   
his feelings to the one he wanted to hide them from the most.

“Vicky, don’t you think the boy is a bit odd around you? You shouldn’t spend so much time near him, really, with that large of an age gap between you two. It’s no good for you, it’s no good for him and it’s no good for our relationship either.” Visilisa draped her arms around Victor’s waist. “Spend more time with me instead, okay?”

“Uh-huh,” came Victor’s half-assed reply. 

“You do know he probably has a massive crush on you right?”

“Uh-huh,” was Victor’s only reply. 

“You don’t like him back do you? You’re 12 years older than him, why is he pining after a man so much older than him and so out of his league?” Vasilisa hugged Victor closer, littering kisses down his collarbone. 

Victor's reply never came.

Yuri was in a very bad mood when he arrived at the skating rink, and everyone within a three meter radius seemed to feel it too, jumping aside to let the furious boy pass.

“Trouble in paradise?” Natasha asked curiously, as Yuri took the turn into the changing room. “Weren’t you supposed to spend the rest of the afternoon after practice skating with VIctor? I thought you'd be happy to do that, considering your massive crush on him and all,” she said, ducking as Yuri’s fist came bowling towards her face.

“So I take it that he bailed.” She guessed, and she knew she had guessed rightly when Yuri put down his fist and sat down on the bench. “Apparently he has a girlfriend now, Vasilisa Ivankov, some famous Russian model he met in Paris,” he tied his laces tightly it was as if his skates were Ivankov’s neck, and the tighter he tied it, the faster she would disappear from Victor’s life.

“You’re too good for him, fairy,” she says as she flops down on the bench next to him. “But then Victor isn’t the type of man to just settle down- he’ll break things off with her at some point. Maybe even this week? Who knows. Now get your ass off that bench and come skate with me,” she held out her hand, but Yuri didn't take it. Instead he pushed her to the side and stomped onto he skating rink.

“If you don’t perfect the programme by 3 you’re not getting the early leave,” Yakov was already there, his beady eyes staring sternly at Yuri. As if that could still scare him. 

“I don’t want the early leave,” he said, as he wandered off to do his warm up.

“Even better,” Yakov gave an approving nod before skating off to fix another student’s posture. 

~~He was going to learn how to live without orbiting around Victor. And he was going to start by being better than him~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the positive feedback! I've never really been this invested into a piece of work before and I think it's because of your support. Thank you so much and THIS MAY BE THE FIRST OF MY WORKS TO ACTUALLY BE COMPLETED WHOOP.


	5. Casanova On Ice (Part Two!!!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Plot twist from heaven has just accidentally ruined my plot. Oh well- who cares. Also I'm in the middle of my exams and I should NOT be typing fanfiction LOL.
> 
> I'm in serious need of a beta reader LOL so if you can spare five minutes every day or so contact me thankssss

A week after the fateful incident at Victor’s house, the inevitable happened. Victor brought Vasilisa to one of his skating practices, and Yuri just so happened to be learning how to do a triple flip, which just so happened to be his least graceful jump. It was as if fate was begging the two blonds to hate each other. 

“Yuratchka! I brought Vasya with me!” The silver haired man seemed so excited that Yuri almost didn’t have the uncontrollable urge to slap the woman in the face. Almost. He scowled, turning his attention back to the ice. Why did she could Victor so happy- Yuri had no idea. No idea at all.

“That’s the razluchnik? (Translate: rival in love) Oh gosh, you’ve got yourself quite the SSR card over there,” Mila whispered as she turned her attention back to the mobile tablet she held. “Don’t be so loud!” Yuri hissed back. Mila Shrugged, rolling her eyes at Yuri. 

“This is going to be my programme for this year’s Skating Championships- it’s just a basic run-through, a draft of some sorts. I’m thinking about you when I skate, remember that, kay?” Victor winked at the tall blonde. She blushed before taking out her phone. “Let’s take a selfie- three, two, one, smile!” At smile, Victor turned his head a bit more to kiss her cheek. “Now go show me the programme you made for me,” she said, before putting her lips into a pout. 

“Please, Vicky,” she said, and Yuri feigned puking. “Goodness, that pet name is disgusting. I pity you,” Mila patted Yuri’s back affectionately, deliberating shielding the boy from Vasilisa’s piercing glare. “You know what? Let’s go get icecream or… something. You haven’t had a break in ages,” Mila began as she frog-walked the tiny blonde to the exit. 

“Where are you going, Yura?” Victor asked, cocking his head as he skated towards the center of the rink and closer to Yuri. “We’re going to give you and Ivankov some personal time,” she said, barely sugarcoating her scorn. “Now Yuri, come along, stop dragging your skates.”

Yuri followed Mila, trying very hard not to meet the twenty-three year old’s eye. “You’re so bloody _light_ ,” she joked. 

Once they entered the changing room, Yuri peeled his skates off, throwing them haphazardly into a pile before rushing to the balcony. “At least take a coat!” The red-haired beauty grabbed two coats, draped them over her left forearm， and hurried after the boy.

The skating rink had a glass ceiling, with a simple balcony reserved for maintenance workers and guards, but it was often abandoned, and Yuri would climb up the fire-escape to gaze at the rink.

It was seemed a lot different up on the balcony with its beige tiles and rusting fence. It was paler, for one, and the ice seemed more blue than white. The spectator stand no longer looked as if it were confining the ice within, instead it framed the ice like a masterpiece worthy of Leonardo Da Vinci.

Gentle music floated from indoors. “Carmen, l’amour c’est une oiseau rebelle. Love is a rebellious bird. Victor did always have unique taste,” Mila commented as she threw her legs over the fence. “You know the story of Carmen?”

Yuri shook his head, before turning his attention back to the silver haired figure on the ice, deliberately avoiding looking at the tall blond on the spectator’s stand. 

“I should really not be telling the story to an eleven year old ~~(a/n: I was told the story by a conductor when I was seven LOL and it was really really graphic )~~ , but here goes.” Victor paused in the middle of the rink. 

“Once there was a Spanish gypsy named Carmen,” Victor tossed his hair behind his back before launching into a corkscrew spin. “And she met this man, Don Jose during the factory’s lunchtime.” A serpentine sequence. “And you see, this man had a fiancé named Micaela,” A triple axel , double toe-loop and triple flip combination jump. “But then Carmen threw a rose at his feet and he was head- over heels in love,” Throwing motions while flicking his hair back, smiling at the figure on the spectator’s stand. 

“Don Jose left the army to go with Carmen,” Victor skating back and forth on the rink, sometimes backwards, in fluid motions, sometimes face front, in ragged zigzags. “But Carmen grew bored of him, and instead fell in love with a bullfighter named Escamillo.” A death jump followed by a quadruple lutz. Then another step sequence, fluid and light, “Don Jose gives Carmen another chance when he sees her watching Escamillo’s bullfight, and says that if she doesn’t go with him he would kill her,” Victor’s signature quad flip, accompanied by a triple Salchow. 

“Carmen laughs, says no, and Don Jose stabs her. She bleeds out in his arms, as beautiful and feisty as she had been in real life,” Victor kicks up into a quadruple toe loop, before missing the landing on purpose and crumpling to the ground, as if he had been stabbed. The music stops, as Victor gracefully get back on his feet and skates enthusiastically towards Ivankov. Yuri can see as much, despite being quite a few meters above the couple. 

“I don’t want to see this, he says before snatching the coat Mila got for him and accompanying her as they got onto a random cab to get to the nearest mall before anyone could suspect that Yuri had watched the champion’s flawless performance. 

“No one is going to care. Hell, no one is going to even think this is anything special. Everyone knows you have a massive crush on Victor, and nobody's even surprised, Heck, I’m pretty sure there are millions of people out there who don’t even know his true personality and are in his life and the only thing they ever see about him is his skating, and they are utterly obsessed with him. I’m sure there’s even at least one Japanese guy out there with the dorkiest glasses ever that has watched every single one of Victor’s skating clips on Youtube, has his room plastered with posters, and has made it his one life goal to get to the Grand Prix Final to skate competitively alongside Victor. Heck- I’m pretty sure the guy dreams about Victor being his coach or something every other night. That’s how obsessed most people are, and they haven’t even seen a fraction of how beautiful the guy is. And this is all I have to saw.” Yuri doesn’t say a word. The taxi arrives at the shopping mall and Mila pays the bill before they get to the ice cream shop.

A pretty blonde girl works as the cashier there, and once she saw the duo walk into the store, she let out an excited squeal. “Are you Mila Babicheva- second time silver medal winner of the Junior Championships for figure skating?”. “Yeah, I am,” The red-head smiles, not used to people remembering her. “I do figure skating too- but not nearly as good as anything you do. My teacher made me watch tons of your videos, to learn how to do a triple toe-loop, but then…”

“Shut up and take the order, loser,” Yuri says under his breath, but just loud enough for the girl to hear. She blushes, before taking their order of two chocolate sundaes, adding extra sprinkles to Mila’s. 

“What’s with the attitude, you ferocious little kitten,” Mila joked before settling down at a table outside the shop. Yuri took the chair across her, unceremoniously flopping into it with a loud bang, mostly due to the fact that his jacket had steel studs near the hem. 

“Nothing, eat your ice cream,” he says, before starting to eat his, but with considerably less gusto than usual. “What’s gotten into you?” The 14 year old asked, arching one perfectly drawn eyebrow. “Nothing. I just wish that next skating season could come faster. 

“It’s your first season, right? Oh my goodness, you’ve grown so much!” She chuckles “Do you remember your first competition? When Victor went to especially cheer you on? Your grandpa was there too, I’m pretty sure. I’m sure he’s very very proud of you. Our little Yuratchka, going to become a world famous figure skater.”

“I’m no one’s ‘Little Yuratchka’. Besides, it’s your senior debut this year. Yakov’s going to be all over you- he’s not going to be satisfied with anything but a place in the finals, you know?”

“Of course I know, little Yura, and that’s why we’re jogging to the library to finish our homework before the weekend. I assume you don’t want to go back to see Victor suck face with some supermodel?”

Yuri didn’t say anything, but Mila could tell from the force he put into slamming the chair back to its original spot, that he was no where near interested in going back. Mila chuckled- he really was quite cute.

“Are you going to just stand there forever, bitch?”

 _It’s probably puberty_ she chuckled more, ignoring the lasers Yuri sent at her, before waving goodbye to the girl at the cashier and chasing after Yuri, who was already halfway down the street.


End file.
